


That Ass Though

by nothingamonth



Series: Steve and Thor are FWB [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Gay Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Smut, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingamonth/pseuds/nothingamonth
Summary: Bucky has been living in the twentieth-first century for a few months alongside the other former Avengers.  He didn't think he could be surprised by anything anymore, at least until he walked in on his best guy and an Asgardian god wrapped around each other like a pair of snakes, he realized how wrong he was.  Or, in which Bucky is jealous of Steve's jeans.





	

_That ass, though._

Bucky had been living in the twenty-first century for some months now, and his grasp of current slang was tenuous, but damned if Steve’s ass didn’t warrant it. With one hand braced against a shelf as he reached for a cereal box on the top shelf, that round, supple ass of his was hugged tightly by his jeans—the seam practically jammed up the crack, right where Bucky wanted to bury his face.

A deep rumbling cough broke him out of his salacious reverie and alerted him that he had been spotted looking. Thor, who had accompanied them to the grocery store, glared at Bucky from underneath thick, blond brows. The brunet shifted his weight to his other foot, pushing the nearly full shopping cart forward a few inches. His features settled into what could only be described as bemused innocence.

It had been seventy years or more—fuck if Bucky could keep track anymore—and his attraction and affection towards his childhood friend remained a closely guarded, and yet very obvious, secret. Which was why, when Thor approached Steve and wrapped a massive, possessive arm around the other blond’s waist and hauled him in close, Bucky’s vision was tinged furious red. 

It didn’t help that Steve’s eyes flew to his, showing his guilt and excitement as Thor buried his face against the back of Steve’s neck and muttered something Bucky didn’t quite catch. Two spots of color appeared high on Steve’s cheeks as he finally turned away from his old buddy. He smiled and gently pushed Thor away. Probably admonished him for being so forward in public, Bucky guessed.

Because who would have thought that when Bucky finally woke up from cryo in Wakanda that the man he was returning to had not only (quietly) come out as bisexual, but also moved on from Bucky—if there ever had been anything there to begin with?

“Sorry about that, Buck,” Steve said, dropping the cereal in the cart, blushing furiously now. “Subtlety isn’t Thor’s strong suit,” he added in a low murmur.

“Well, try and keep that shit behind closed doors, would you?” Bucky snapped. Sure, it was petty to lash out at Steve, but like that big dumb shield of his, he was an easy target. Steve responded by dipping his head closer to his chest in what served as a nod.

“Yeah—yeah, of course, buddy. Sorry. I know how qu—weird it must seem to you—" 

“Come!” Thor bellowed as he approached; “the hour grows late!” He grabbed Steve’s perfectly vascular forearm and dragged him toward check-out. Bucky huffed and dropped his weight to his arms as he followed them with the cart.

* * *

 

Bucky mostly kept to himself when the team was in residence at Stark Tower. It was rare that any of the recently-disbanded Avengers were living aside each other for any length of time. Everyone had a private residence, it seemed, except Bucky, who lived in a suite below the penthouse. Even Steve had a small apartment in Brooklyn.

Bucky told himself he preferred the security of a high-rise apartment to a quaint, cozy home with Steve.

This week, however, Steve would be staying in the suite next to Bucky’s because he and Tony were having late meetings every night. And—to the brunet’s great dismay—they had been graced with the presence of the Asgardian prince, who came and went as he pleased. A few hours ago, Bucky had learned of Thor and Steve’s affair when he went in search of a new razor and found the two twisted around each other like a pair of snakes. Blond limbs entangled with blond limbs, Bucky had no idea where one started and the other began.

He’d probably be able to sort it out later when he rubbed one out in the shower.

Steve had immediately leapt out of Thor’s arms, which was not an easy feat. In fact, it had left the mortal with angry red marks around his ribs and over his buttock. He had chased after Bucky, swiping a towel from the floor to hide his shame, quick to supply his “best guy” with an explanation: _it’s a different time! Men can even get married now!_ before Bucky cut him off with an abrupt gesture.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I’m not naïve. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he’d said.

 _You weren’t the one that snuck down to the docks at night just to be able to smell that dusty boy-smell, feel slim hips collide with his own with a wet slap of flesh, or experience the scruff of stubble against his stomach,_ he’d thought.

Steve had insisted that the three of them at least have dinner together, an idea that neither Thor nor Bucky was keen on—probably for completely opposite reasons. But once Steve had a thought in his head, it was hard to dissuade him. Even Thor had crumbled when the smaller blond turned those kicked-puppy eyes at him. So they found themselves in a grocery store to prepare for dinner.

After a tense ride back to the Tower, they returned to Steve’s rooms and tried to pretend that the past few hours hadn’t happened. Bucky immediately volunteered to help Steve in the kitchen (an area of the suite that Thor called ‘the woman’s quarters’) and set to work filleting the chicken. The tension was palpable. Steve worked barefoot in the kitchen. Bucky couldn’t stop staring at the dust of gold hair on the knuckle of his big toe. He wanted to put it in his mouth.

Bucky realized Steve had been trying to ask him a question and reluctantly lifted his eyes. Instead of answering him, he asked, “When didja learn that you’re a swish?" 

Steve’s blue eyes turned cloudy even as a blush crept over his cheeks. “I dunno, Buck,” he said with a shrug. “I guess I always knew.” The blond was suddenly very interested in the vegetables he was chopping.

“Even in the war?” Bucky asked, trying not to imagine Steve fucking those scrawny USO boys that he toured with.

“W-Well, sure,” Steve stammered, “but I never made it with anyone or nothin’, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Never made it with anybody? If Bucky hadn’t heard it from Steve’s mouth, he wouldn’t have believed it. Had he been scared of what people might think? Or does that mean he was saving himself for some fella? And as far as Bucky knew, he was (had been) the only fella that shared a bed with Captain America. He damped his lips with his tongue. “Nah, I was just wonderin’—“ He was cut off by Thor’s entrance who swept Steve off his feet with a well-placed shoulder to the smaller blond’s abdomen. To Bucky’s horror and his cock’s delight, Steve let out a little _gasp_ that was as adorable as it was sexy. His cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink.

“Let me down, you lug!” Steve laughed. He wrapped his arms loosely around Thor’s neck and asked, over the god’s shoulder. “What is it, Buck? What didja want to ask me?” 

Bucky was aflame with envy as he looked up at Steve, balancing ever so gracefully on Thor’s broad shoulder. “Nothin’,” he quickly said, turning away. “Chicken’s ready for the skillet.”

But Steve was no longer paying attention. One of Thor’s hands had disappeared down Steve’s back, and he was looking at the larger man with pupils blown wide desire.

Bucky set the knife that he did not remember picking up back down on the counter before quietly retreating into his own apartment. He didn’t know if he was going to throw up or cream his jeans, but he knew what Thor was doing. He would have done the same thing if Steve were his: make sure everyone knew it.

As if to confirm, Bucky heard something solid slam against the wall that adjoined his and Steve’s suites. Steve’s low moan of pleasure was audible even through the thick walls of the Tower. Bucky flopped onto his bed face first. This was hell.

In the other room, Thor had Steve pinioned against the wall of his living room. The smaller man wrapped his legs around the other’s waist and moaned as Thor bit down on his shoulder. “You could have—ah!—waited until after dinner, Thor,” Steve admonished. Thor hooked his hands underneath Steve’s knees and pulled him down so that he could feel the god’s throbbing erection against his belly.

“This cannot wait,” he rumbled. Steve’s abdomen fluttered underneath the onslaught.

“No,” Steve said firmly and pushed him away. It was like shoving a brick wall, but Thor took a step back and let Steve drop down to his feet. “I’m sorry, but Bucky—he doesn’t understand. And he’s my friend.”

Thor cupped Steve’s face with one hand, and the smaller man turned his cheek into the callused palm. “I think he knows all too well,” the god assured him with a curious smile.

Steve’s eyes snapped open. “How do you mean?” he asked, leaving a kiss on Thor’s wrist. The god’s flinty blue eyes hardened.

“He looks at your backside as though it were a feast,” Thor told him, gripping Steve’s ass through his jeans.

“N-No he doesn’t,” the smaller man stammered. He loved making love with Thor because he was one of the few entities who could throw him around in the sack. It didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous, and a good friend besides.

“He does,” Thor replied, releasing him. His beard brushed Steve’s cheekbone as he leaned into his ear. “And if you would rather be with him tonight, you should go.”

Steve worried his lower lip between his teeth. “I should probably go talk to him,” he decided, ignoring his hard-on. Thor clapped him on the shoulder and rocked him onto the opposite foot. The smaller blond used the momentum to jog to the door.

He knocked on Bucky’s door so insistently that it might be considered pounding. The other man opened the door after a brief moment. They were of a height now, since the serum. Steve blushed once again. He never lost his cool around anyone else—only Bucky could make his face feel like it was on fire.

“Hey,” Steve said lamely.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t eat dinner if Thor is gonna to be eating you out the entire time,” Bucky replied.

“I know. I came to apologize—“

“Apology accepted,” the brunet interrupted, going to close the door. Steve stuck his foot in the way.

“Wait! I need to ask you a question.”

Bucky lifted his gray eyes to Steve’s. He was clearly pissed, and the blond couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. “Were you really looking at my ass earlier?”

It was Bucky’s turn to blush, though it was not nearly as noticeable as Steve’s full-face flushes.

“Well, you’re wearin’ those jeans like a dame—“

“I got these in the men’s section,” Steve broke in. He hooked his fingers in his belt loops and rocked back on his bare heels. “Look, I just wanna know that, you know, you ain’t disgusted by me.”

Bucky huffed a huge sigh, holding his arms akimbo. Steve took the opportunity to slip inside his rooms. They were often in each other’s spaces; the familiarity between them hadn’t been lost just because Steve lived in a different burrough.

“Stevie, you know I ain’t. I could never,” Bucky replied, seeming not to notice that Steve had entered his space.

“I wouldn’t mind if you was lookin’, is what I’m sayin’,” the blond blurted out. His accent got thicker the more nervous he became, and Bucky stared at him for a long time. Finally, he asked, “If you always knew you was queer, did you ever—think about me?”

“Only every minute!” Steve exclaimed. He went to move further into the room, but Bucky trapped him against the wall with his metal left arm. “I always thought—you were always goin’ out with all these girls…” Steve dropped his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Oh, babydoll, no,” Bucky said, grabbing Steve roughly by the back of the neck. “Look at me,” he demanded, and those ocean blue eyes flashed upwards. Steve had shrunk back against the wall in the cage of his arms.

“You burned down the world for me, Stevie. You can’t lose me now.” Bucky leaned in, but stopped just short of his lips. “But ain’t you seein’ that Swedish cat next door?”

Steve laughed, hesitantly carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He hated it hanging in the other’s face. He liked it when Bucky wore it in a bun or in a ponytail. “Thor’s not Swedish, jerk. And I ain’t seein’ him. Sometimes I just get—lonely,” he explained.

“You just fuck him, then? Why, Stevie Rogers, I never!”

Bucky didn’t get to finish his taunt as Steve closed the distance between their lips. Bucky’s lips were warm and dry. The brunet seemed to hesitate before closing his arms around the other man. The mechanisms in his arm whirred as he palmed Steve’s cheek and forced his mouth open with one metal thumb. His tongue slipped between his lips, eliciting a long sigh from Steve.

The noise pushed Bucky over the edge. He forced Steve back against the wall as their tongues met and swirled and danced across one another. The blond continued to moan and whimper into his mouth, and when Bucky pulled back, Steve looked back at him with such need and want in his lust-dark eyes.

The gears in Bucky’s head were turning. “You like bein’ pushed around?” he asked.

Steve bit his lower lip. “Reminds me of when—of when I was small.”

That made sense, Bucky supposed. He reached out and fingered the hem of Steve’s t-shirt with his left hand. His nipples were erect and showing prominently through the thin fabric. “You know what I wanna do when I see you dressed like this?”

Steve made an inquiring noise in his throat that turned into yelp when Bucky ripped the shirt from his frame. “Get on the bed,” he growled. The remains of Steve’s t-shirt trembled in his fist. The blond was quick to obey, pausing only to ask, “How do you want me?”

“Hands and knees. Ass up,” Bucky replied. “Take off your pants.”

Underneath his jeans, Steve was wearing what Bucky could only describe as panties. He chuckled and snapped his waistband as he climbed up on the bed. “You get these in the men’s department too?” he asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Steve replied in that prim little voice of his, though his cheeks and chest were flaming. “They don’t show through the jeans." 

Bucky stood behind him at the foot of the bed, delicately slipping his fingertips underneath the underwear to peel them off. He thought again about how his jeans had slid so nice right up the crack of his ass.

Steve lifted each knee in succession as Bucky pulled his underwear off. He felt exposed, which, in turn, made his cock twitch. And it was Bucky looking at him, Bucky’s eyes on him, Bucky’s cool metal fingers caressing one globe of his ass.

“Down on your elbows,” the brunet said softly, pressing him down with his flesh hand. “I have wanted to eat your ass since I came to in Azzano.”

“No one’s ever—“ 

“Shh,” Bucky hissed. His fingers trailed up Steve’s flank as he retrieved a citrus-flavored lube from his nightstand. He bought it for jacking off because he liked the smell. The future was an amazing place.

Steve was trembling—from excitement, or fear, or desire…

Bucky poured a healthy dollop of lube on his fingers and swiped it across Steve’s exposed hole.

“Ah! Cold,” Steve yelped.

“Give me a second. Are you always this impatient?”

The blond thought about it, hanging his head between his shoulders to watch Bucky upside down. “Yes. I’ve waited a long time for this, Buck. I tried to—I guess—replace the memory of you with other men, but—“

During Steve’s little confession, Bucky swirled his finger around his entrance, just teasing as the scent of oranges filled the air. At the mention of other men, he slid his middle finger inside to the first digit. Steve abruptly shut up.

“I never want to hear you talk about other men again,” he said, twisting his hand. Steve whimpered through his teeth. Then, panting, he asked, “What about you? You seem to know your way around.”

Bucky put one knee up on the bed and leaned in. “I didn’t always go see dames at night,” he explained tersely, and Steve laughed drily. So they had been hiding the same secret from each other for seventy years? It figured.

The irony flew right out of Steve’s head as Bucky’s tongue joined his finger, delicately outlining his hole. “Oh, Buck,” he moaned, rocking back into the heat of the other man’s breath. Bucky lifted his other hand and steadied Steve with a hand on his hip.

“That good, baby?” he asked. He got some sort of keening in reply, which he interpreted as a go. His finger started to move inside Steve as he swathed his crack with wide swipes of his tongue. Occasionally, he would pull the other man open to flick his tongue inside.

Steve’s cock was dripping down his leg. He tried to stifle his moans and cries as Bucky added another finger inside him. The fingers prised him apart with a scissoring motion and Bucky’s tongue slid between them. Steve hadn’t lied; no one had ever eaten him out before. After waking up from the ice, he had been very selective about who he went to bed with. Thor was the gentlemanly type, despite his tendency to treat Steve like a ragdoll. It had more to do with the fact that he _could_ , he thought. Besides him, there had been a few others, men and women, but he certainly didn’t expect his first time with Bucky to be like _this._

Bucky worked his fingers in deeper until he felt that hard spot inside Steve that made him shout. “Tell me you like it,” he demanded.

Steve released an explosive sigh as his thighs began to tremble with the effort of keeping him in that position. “ _Yes!_ Yes, I like it!” he cried.

“Like what?” the other pressed. Bucky’s voice was low and controlled—not unlike the Winter Soldier’s voice, really—as he continued to stroke Steve’s prostate with an unpredictable rhythm. He couldn’t take his eyes off the other man’s face, now half-hidden in Bucky’s blanket: blue eyes pleading with him from under a fan of dark lashes, pink lips open and quavering, and, as always, that deep furrow between his brows.

“I like your tongue in my ass,” Steve said quietly, “but I’m ready. Please, _please_ put it in now. Fuck me, Bucky, please. I want it—“

Bucky had to close his eyes to keep from coming. He didn’t bother undressing; he simply unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly, freeing the painful erection that had never really gone away since that morning. While he slicked the length of his cock, Steve continued to beg under his breath, his voice an almost deranged whisper. Bucky positioned the other man’s knees at the edge of the bed and lined himself up. Steve was already trying to push back onto him, the little slut, but Bucky stayed him with his hands.

“No one but me, agreed?” he asked.

“Never again,” Steve promised. “Now, please?”

“Don’t say I never did anything for ya,” Bucky replied, snapping his hips forward. Steve sucked in his breath and arched his back, hands tearing at the sheets. When the brunet slipped out of him and rolled his hips again, Steve lost his grip and slipped a few inches down the mattress, forcing Bucky to hold him by the shoulders as he fucked him. He didn’t realize a stream of profanities spilled from his lips until they were returned to him as confirmations from Steve.

“Oh, God, _yes_ , I’m your little cockslut! _Nn!_ Oh, Bucky, let me see you come, I wanna see your face when you come in me—“

With a growl, Bucky pulled out, flipped Steve over, and lifted his hips in both hands before pushing in again. In his peripheral vision, the other man’s toes curled toward the ceiling. Steve reached between his legs to touch himself, beyond words now. Bucky felt the other man’s body tense around him and watched, enraptured, as Steve spilled himself on his hand and stomach. He pushed through the other’s orgasm until he found his own climax a moment later, his hands clenching Steve’s prominent hipbones hard enough to leave lasting bruises. It just kept coming, wave after wave until Bucky was sure there would be nothing left standing but bones and a metal arm when it finally ended.

Steve gathered the brunet up when he collapsed on top of him, moving so that they were side by side on the bed. “I feel like I was fucked by a train,” he said, pushing Bucky’s hair out of his eyes. He grunted, absently tracing the red marks his fingers had left on Steve’s hip. The blond opened his mouth to speak, but ultimately kept his peace. It was clear that the man currently running his fingers through Steve’s pubic hair was neither Bucky Barnes nor the Winter Soldier, but perhaps a bit of both. He’d known that, logically, but now it had literally been pounded into him. Perhaps that was why he’d hesitated, but maybe he just didn’t want to lose the one person who would only know him as Steve Rogers.

“Yer thinkin’ too loud,” Bucky announced, his face more pout than grimace.

“Do you wanna keep a few things at my place in Brooklyn? Maybe you could come over more often. Must get lonely up in this tower, Rapunzel,” Steve said softly. His fingers twined a strand of Bucky’s long hair around them.

“Ha ha,” the other man replied. But after a moment’s silence he added, “Yeah, okay.” 

“Okay,” Steve echoed. By the time his eyes closed, Bucky was already snoring.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time publishing a fic in about ten years! I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
